Alternatives
by Samantha's Library
Summary: There were only three rules he was supposed to follow: 1. Don't leave anything behind. 2. Don't interact with anyone if you can help it. And 3. Avoid interacting with alternate versions of yourself at all costs. No one knew how the rules came to be and no one knew why you shouldn't break them, but Agent Perseus Jackson had always been a rebel. And that would prove to be disastrous.


**WARNING: This story is rated T for violence, mild language, and possible gore. If you are in any way uncomfortable with that, turn back now.**

 **So, this idea came to me just randomly while I was scrolling through fanfiction looking for some cool mysteries. You know…there isn't very many mysteries for PJO anymore, it's kind of disappointing. Like two of my three favorite mysteries dropped off the face of the globe (which was really sad). Anyway, I was just thinking about how cool it would be if there was an alternate universe in which Percy was an inter-dimensional cop and this popped into my head as I was trying to come up with a villain.**

 **Enjoy. :)  
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Percy was getting tired of the ropes scratching his wrists and ankles. It left a unique burn and caused his wrists to bleed when he struggled. He would have been further annoyed with the pain had he not been absolutely terrified. Terror does seem to help you forget the pain pretty quick. Probably had something to do with fight or flight, he was sure.

Waking up to low ceilings, poor lighting, and a bitter cold in the air wasn't an experience he'd recommend. Of course, being tied to a chair without having any indication as to why wasn't something he'd recommend either. His mind raced with theory after theory until it was almost too horrible to imagine anymore. He didn't understand what the _heck_ was going on and that bugged him too.

He shivered and struggled and called out, but nothing happened. There were points where he wondered if he could speak at all. Then his right ear picked up a loud bang and his heart raced into his throat. He didn't want to meet the possible mad man that had the power to do all sorts of horrible things to him. No, he'd take a pass, thank you.

He just couldn't wrap his mind around it. Someone kidnapping him. There was a lot of people he pissed off in his life, but he couldn't see any one of them taking him to a secluded location to slowly drive him mad. Maybe one of them would straight up kill him—he'd put his money on Mrs. Dodds for that one—but this seemed to be overkill.

It was difficult to remember where he was before he woke up tied to this chair. He couldn't seem to quite remember what he was doing. He vaguely grasped onto a memory of looking into his girlfriend's beautiful stormy grey eyes before kissing her on the forehead and saying goodnight. Oh crap. That wouldn't be the last time he'd see her, would it? The thought did not give him very much hope at all.

Sixteen…he'd die before he even became an adult—if he died at all. And his mom…how could he forget? She would be alone in this world if it wasn't for him and Annabeth. She'd been looking for a boyfriend, but so far, she hadn't had much luck. She was so careful of who she dated ever since the last jerk. But even if she had a good guy right now, he still wouldn't be happy knowing his death might leave her and Annabeth alone. What would happen to them if he died? He couldn't quite imagine what she and Annabeth would be doing in their grief. Although, he didn't really want to, because the idea greatly depressed him.

His body shook with an unpleasant mix of fear and the feeling of the bitter cold biting at his skin. He wore a jacket, but it was thin and not well-insulated, so the frosty air slipped through any crack it could find. "It's cold, isn't it?" Someone said with a chuckle and Percy immediately stiffened. He could feel what little warmth he had left drain from his face as he recognized the voice. The recognition didn't bring him any terror or too much surprise, it was more instant disbelief, like he wasn't sure if he could trust his own ears. No one would believe him if he told them (again, that's assuming he makes it out of this alive), but Percy would swear on his life that his captor's voice sounded exactly like someone was playing a recording of Percy's own voice back at him, only with perfect audio. Was this supposed to be amusing to him?

"W-who are y-you?" He said, the cold effecting the state of his voice. There was a chuckle again and Percy could hear him stepping around, but he couldn't identify what he was doing. It was too dark to see anything that wasn't two feet in front of his face and his eyes were practically rocking back and forth in their sockets with the shivering.

"You've got a pleasant life, don't you Percy?" He asked. And just like that, Percy wasn't shivering because of the cold anymore. "Loving mother and girlfriend, lots of friends, school average…" Percy couldn't emphasis how freaking creepy it was to hear a voice exactly like his make the nicest things sound so menacing. "…you have it all, don't you, Perce?"

"Wh-what do you want with-th me?" Percy asked. His heart felt like he'd just ran a mile up a steep hill and he didn't appreciate it.

"I don't want anything with you, I want something _from_ you." He said. From him? Seriously? Percy's head buzzed with ideas but nothing he owned seemed worth this much trouble.

"What could I give you?" He asked, trying to abandon the shaky voice and deal with the cold.

"Oh, it's not something you can really give me, Percy." He informed. "It's really only something I can take." Percy could perfectly imagine the most hideous insane smirk on this guy's face as those words left his mouth. He felt himself struggle with his bonds almost without realizing it—on instinct. It was as if his body figured out what the creep meant before his brain.

"What…?" He wondered aloud, and the guy stepped forward, into the light where Percy could see him. He was gripping a knife. Percy thought he was going to have a heart attack right there once he made the connection and he would have much preferred it. Slowly, he turned his eyes up to see the guy's face and he felt a new kind of shock and terror flow through his veins, burning like acid.

That was his face he was met with. His face! And the shock he felt suddenly turned the room into a sauna, because he was sweating like no tomorrow. Crap. His life was going to become a horror movie after this, whether he did or didn't die. There's no way anyone was going to believe him. What was this creep supposed to be? Some inner demon come to life? A shape-shifter? Someone's not so funny idea of a joke?

"How?" He managed to slip out, though his voice seemed frail. "Who the Hell are you?!" He managed to get a hold of what little courage he had left, and he was determined to keep a grip on it. His evil clone smirked and kneeled, so Percy had to look down to meet his eyes. The gesture was insulting almost, like Percy was some small kid, it was as if his clone was taunting him. He also noticed that the creep was holding what looked to be a badge in his other hand. But he couldn't make out if it was a cop's or FBI or whatever, but he didn't really care too much. He turned his eyes back to meet his very own eyes—which didn't get less weird the more he thought about it—and attempted his best glare.

His creepy clone, laughed. "I thought you would have been smarter than that, Perce." Percy blinked, clenching and unclenching his fists in discomfort. "You look at me every day in the mirror." He informed. It was strange for his own voice to disturb him so much. Maybe it was unsettling because the way this guy talked was a way he never would. "My name is Percy Jackson." Now there were plenty of things wrong with that statement but the creepiest of them all was the fact that Percy knew he wasn't lying. He didn't really understand how he knew, but he did.

"How is that possible?" He asked. The creep half-smirked and raised his knife and Percy felt terror overcome him again.

"Sorry," He told him, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm not in the mood to answer any more questions." Percy begged him not to do it, but it was too late to stop. The second Percy Jackson, that didn't exist yesterday, rammed his knife down and tore into Percy's flesh. Then he repeated it a second time. Then a third. All while Percy screamed in agony and tears of pain and heartbreak poured down his face like someone had just opened the flood gates.

After a minute or two…maybe longer—blood loss was making it hard to think—the psychopath dropped his blade and Percy watched as he pressed on the badge in his other hand. A bluish-green beam of light shot out of it and his clone turned and mock saluted him. "It was nice knowing you, Perce. Shame you won't survive." And with that he slipped into a spiraling bluish-green vortex and disappeared, the vortex following his lead.

Percy chalked it up to some sort of hallucination from blood-loss and tried his very best to keep stubbornly conscious. He could faintly hear sirens and he knew someone must have heard him screaming bloody murder (literally). But, by then it was too late. His shirt and jacket were soaked with blood, his chest was unsettlingly still, and there was nothing but darkness in his vision now. His last thought was a depressing realization; They'd never know who murdered him. And then…Percy Jackson was dead.

...o0o...

It was a gruesome scene. Agent Perseus Jackson would never forget it. Agents rushed off in different directions around him, never once blocking his view. It was a lot of blood that his look-alike had lost, and it would never get any less creepy to see a corpse of another him. Just another Percy Jackson, head slumped over, limbs limp, eyes lifeless.

There were only so many ways he could watch himself die before he started to feel a piece of himself slipping away. He wondered what this Percy would never do tomorrow, and he could find out. He could find out all the things that this version of him was going to miss…and that never got any less unsettling either.

And it was all his fault. _You've really got to mess up royally, don't you, Perce?_ He thought to himself as he stared at the limp body of Percy Jackson 238. His wrists and ankles were bound to a simple wooden chair, and it you payed close enough attention you saw the evidence of rope burns and dried blood from the ropes cutting into his skin. Percy 238 was one of the few Percys living a happy life and that was taken from him in matter of minutes. And thinking about all the family and friends he left behind without ever having a chance to say goodbye…Agent Jackson put his head in his hand and turned away, feeling like he was going to be sick.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and immediately stiffened, reaching for his gun. A slightly smaller hand gripped his wrist and dragged it away from the weapon as the person responsible slipped into view. Agent Annabeth Chase, his partner. She let go of his wrist and turned her head up from a notepad she was holding to stare deep into his eyes. "You okay, Jackson?" She asked, seeming more suspicious then concerned.

"I've had better days." He quipped, hoping to make himself feel better. Guilt and horror won the day. Agent Chase tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, obviously wanting more than that. Agent Jackson just cleared his throat awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. "So, what do we have?"

"Well, it wasn't easy getting the information considering the rules…" She gave Agent Jackson a pointed look and he frowned.

Agent Jackson sighed sadly. "Do you really have to make me feel worse?" He asked, dropping his shoulders into a slouch. There was maybe a moment where he saw a glint of regret in her eyes but it was gone the next second.

"It seems, Percy here," She gestured to the body as if her partner needed the clarification and Agent Jackson rolled his eyes. He kept an eye on the body in his peripheral as the medics came to retrieve it. "Was just walking home when our perp—" She looked up at him for a moment, as if to see how he reacted and then turned her eyes back down to her notepad. "—came along and snatched him."

"And how do we know this?" He dared to ask.

"Eye witness accounts." She answered, with a sigh. "I can't believe we have to break the rules to solve a problem _you_ created by breaking the rules!" She pointed at him and Agent Jackson chose to ignore that last part.

"Eye witness accounts?" He asked, feeling something snap inside him. "You mean someone—no, not just someone— _multiple_ people saw this happen and did _nothing_ about it?!"

"The police were called." Agent Chase clarified, as if that was supposed to make him feel better.

"Well a lot of good that did him!" Agent Jackson cried, glaring at the dirt as he fiddled with his new badge. Agent Chase smacked his hand and gave him the "I'm watching you" gesture.

"Don't mess with that." She told him. Seeing how depressed he was she sighed and rolled her eyes, trying to compose herself, as to maybe not look so threatening. After all, she knew her partner was more sensitive then herself. "I'm sorry about Percy 238, I know it must be incredibly difficult to see him like this."

"No kidding." Agent Jackson grumbled, kicking a rock. Agent Chase sighed again and held out her hand as an agent passed an evidence bag off to her. She gripped the bag and immediately recognized thin metal. She turned her eyes to the murder weapon and stared calculatingly at it. "Do you think if you stare at it like that long enough it'll just start talking?" Agent Chase sent a glare his way and passed the bag off to him.

"It'd do more good then you are just standing there, moping." She told him as she spun on her heel and turned to walk away.

"Hey!" Agent Jackson replied. "I'm not moping."

"Could've fooled me." Agent Chase half-smirked with her back turned to him. She secretly liked his sass and annoying whining. She'd come to figure out that it was a piece of her partner that made him, him. She didn't have to worry about him as long as he always had something to snark about. Pissing him off was just a bonus. She dropped the smirk and unclipped her badge from her belt lifting it to show this universe's officer. "Agent Chase of the CHB or the unit of Cosmic Human Behavior."

The officer took a moment to examine her badge and raised an eyebrow. "That's not even a thing." He commented, giving her a pointed look. Agent Chase rolled her eyes and clipped her badge back on her belt.

"Officer, I can assure you it is." She told him. "In fact, my associates are working right beside you as we speak." The officer turned to look where Agent Chase gestured and narrowed his eyes at the people gathering evidence alongside his own associates.

"Alright then, say I believe you," The officer said, crossing his arms with a smirk. "What do you specialize in?" He asked, stupidly. At this point, Agent Jackson (who was a safe distance away in the shadows) rubbed his temple and wondered whether this officer was just incredibly stupid or deaf.

Agent Chase didn't so much as blink as she said: "Cosmic Human Behavior, sir." The officer glared at her as if _she_ was the stupid one.

"What exactly does that entail, Miss Chase?" He asked.

"Agent Chase, please." She told him. "We are an inter-dimensional unit assigned to make sure other universes are running smoothly. And currently, this universe's Percy Jackson, who wasn't supposed to die at the age of sixteen (if I may point out), has been murdered. Need I go on?"

"You're insane." The officer told her. "And aren't you the victim's girlfriend, anyhow?"

"Oh look, there _is_ a brain somewhere in there." She replied. Agent Jackson smirked. _Nice one, Chase._ He thought. The officer glared at her as she turned to where Agent Jackson was lurking, silently. "Jackson, get your butt out here." Agent Jackson rolled his eyes and stepped forward into the light. The officer couldn't close his mouth if he tried as he watched the agent stalk over to his partner cross-armed.

"Coming your highness." He remarked as he turned to the officer.

Agent Chase rolled her eyes, turned to the officer, and gestured to Agent Jackson. "Officer, I'd like you to meet my partner, Agent Jackson."

On cue, Agent Jackson grinned annoyingly. "What's up?"

"But he..." The poor shocked officer gestured over to the body of Percy Jackson 238 as the medics just zipped up the body bag to bring him to his family. He turned to Agent Jackson with a shaky hand. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"No, no one was _supposed_ to be dead." He replied. The officer just stared at him, dumbfounded. "You might want to pick your jaw up off the floor, sir. Unless you welcome flies into your mouth?" The officer gave him a fierce glare, forgetting about his shock almost immediately, and closing his mouth. Agent Jackson grinned. Hey, when you treat his partner like just another dumb blonde, you can bet he'll have something to say about it.

"Now, officer," Agent Chase interrupted, and he turned to her, a look of relief on his face. "It'd be appreciated if I could get some cooperation." The officer nodded, looking bewildered.

"Of course." He told her.

"Excellent." She replied, with a smile.

It was only ten wasted minutes to Agent Jackson. Not learning anything new, aside from the fact that the victim was stabbed 5 times, only the last blow being fatal. Although, he felt he could have guessed that one himself. Once Agent Chase was done with the officer she flipped open her notebook and wrote down the location, as well as how many times Percy 238 had been stabbed. "Well, that was useless." Agent Jackson complained, as she came up beside him.

"Every bit of information counts, Jackson." She told him, as she stuffed the notebook in her pocket and turned to him. "Now, I want you to answer me honestly with this next question, got it?"

"Shoot." He replied, raising an eyebrow to show he was intrigued.

"Are you okay?" She questioned, with a demanding tone. Agent Jackson tilted his head in surprise as he looked down at her cold stormy grey eyes. She rolled her eyes having realized the question on his mind. _Why do you care_? "I don't want my partner coming into the field with me if his head's not in the right place. Especially since the criminal we're after is a serial killer specifically going after alternate versions of himself—that means you're a target, Jackson." She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing he didn't need the reminder, and watched as his face fell into an expression of glum annoyance. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." Agent Jackson answered, bitterly. "And, I'm fine…considering."

"Are you sure?"

"Indubitably." Agent Chase tried to resist the smirk as the word left his mouth, but it turned out to be quite the temptation.

"You do listen to me." She said, with a smile.

"I don't always have a choice." He said, and she rolled her eyes. He gave her one of his stupid grins. "Of course, I listen to you, Chase." She smiled. She didn't know how he did it. She prided herself on being the toughest nut to crack, but within a month of knowing him Agent Jackson had figured it out. It was his specialty, getting into someone's head and figuring out just the right buttons to press to make them feel some kind of emotion (usually anger or frustration). He knew how to get into someone's head, and she had a feeling she'd never figure out his secret.

She was more of the evidence and crime scene analyzer. That was her specialty. She wasn't sure if it was quite as impressive, but reading and researching had given her quite the vocabulary. She didn't say indubitably very often, which is how she knew he'd been listening to her. The more amazing thing was that he knew she'd make that connection, which means it was a subtle compliment to her intelligence. Although her partner often frustrated her, she liked how sweet he could be.

After a minute, she dropped the smile and returned to her serious expression. "One more thing…"

"What's that?" He asked, still grinning.

"I'm allowed to care about you, Jackson." She said. "I do work with you everyday and I'd hate to see anything happen to you."

"Alright." Agent Jackson told her, feeling almost flattered. "It's cute that you care."

"Shut up." Agent Chase replied, rolling her eye. She pulled her badge back off her belt and pressed on the middle of it. Immediately a beam shot out of it and a vortex formed in front of them. "Let's get back to HQ." With that Agent Jackson took one last survey of the scene as his partner passed through the portal ahead of him. Out the window he saw Sally Jackson 238 and Annabeth Chase 238 shedding as many tears as they could as the medics brought out the body. He frowned and felt his stomach drop once again as he slipped through the portal.

How could he have been so careless?

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 **Well, that's all for now. I'm just setting up the story. Considering all the paths I have for this character this story could literally never end, or it could take a while, which is exciting for me, because I need the practice. I'm having a terrible time working my way to completion, so maybe, with a long story I can work my way there and then gradually lessen chapters on stories to come. Looking forward to it.**

 **Special thanks to Twin-books and nocturnal-song for reading the rough draft and giving me input. You guys are great!**

 **Tell me your thoughts in a review. I'd also love to hear theories or suggestions for alternate worlds in the future. If I don't take your suggestion ever, there was either no time or it was uncomfortable for me. And I may not do any of them either, I don't know, but I'd love to hear them anyway. Oh, and feel free to share what you thought of the characters. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but flames** ** _will_ be ignored.**

 **I only make one promise on the updating of this story: It will be random. Which means it may take a day for an update, then a month for the next, three months after that, and then a week after that, etc. etc.… I wish I could say I have a schedule that will almost always get you guys an update on a certain day, but sadly, life is kind of throwing out schedules as of late. Just be aware of that and be patient with me. Thanks.**

 **Thanks for reading! :)**

 **Samantha's Library.**


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